Broken Before
by nlizzette7
Summary: "For a moment, Mary considers that there must be a male form of a mistress – love tucked into the pocket of obligation, songbirds where thunderstorms fall." / Mary does not flee after kissing Sebastian. / AU one-shot, 1x05. / Mary x Sebastian.


**Broken Before**

_(song: Flightless Bird, American Mouth)_

**I.** _I was a quick-wit boy, diving too deep for coins._

She's been told that it's not proper to roll around on untrimmed grass with boys who are bastards, boys who are beautiful. She's the Queen of _Scots_, for Heaven's sake.

She's never worn the formalities well.

There are festivities brewing somewhere that's not here, a celebration that she might have been excited about hours before Sebastian's hand had found its way on her hip, a dull promise fading with every skim of his fingers and shallow intake of breath.

She kisses with her eyes open at first. _You watch the sights you're desperate to savor._

"I just wanted – "

"Your taste is like – "

Mary pauses, licks his bottom lip despite herself. He tastes like red wine, smoke, and something sweeter than the two. She mumbles just this against his lips and is surprised to find that he listens. Sebastian's head dips as he catches her whispers, his fingers spread over her ribcage and unfurl ribbons that unfurl fabric in turn.

She turns pink, and not for the first time, Sebastian decides he likes it.

He asks and expects nothing, hasn't expected a thing since she leaned in a distance of nearly a decade without her. "Come with me."

Mary blinks, wonders how a drunken speech of her obvious misfortune has unraveled into something else entirely. Bash takes her hand but lets her help herself up, and Mary says, "I'm not to fall."

Bash takes a moment to steady himself, glances down to where his skin blends into hers. "I'm only to listen."

"I don't know," she admits, like cargo ships and wars shedding seas of blood have nothing on how his pulse matches hers.

"Neither do I," Sebastian murmurs, tipping her chin and trudging them further away from where the castle is a point in all the blue.

They walk and walk until it is not even that.

:::

**II.** _All of your street light eyes, wide on my plastic toys._

For a moment, Mary considers that there must be a male form of a mistress – love tucked into the pocket of obligation, songbirds where thunderstorms fall.

She flushes, jerks her hand from Sebastian's like a bee has just stung.

"Excuse me, Bash," she whispers, eyes set on a gnarled tree and not on his facial expression – kind eyes that want more than what this world will allow them. "I seem to have forgotten myself."

He leans back against that very tree, right in her line of vision, and smiles. "I haven't forgotten anything, my queen."

"Bash – "

"Mary." He calls her by her name, awestruck by beauty, by brains, by everything she is and not just the title she was given.

"This is inappropriate," she states, not for the first time. And Sebastian laughs because she's using the tone of voice she always adopts when she's aiming to make grown men fall to their knees. But he knows better, cups her shoulder and rolls his fingers against it to make her relax.

"Do you enjoy my company, Your Grace?"

Mary smiles. "At times." She adds, "When you're not playing court jester."

He grins at this, and it's a beautiful sight. "I'm offended." He kneels then, against the grassy knoll he's suddenly claimed as theirs. "I'd play the jester of your court any day."

_Francis owns a kingdom_, Mary decides as she joins him. _While Sebastian has been making the rest of the world his own._

:::

**III.** _Then when the cops closed the fair, I cut my long baby hair._

"Sobriety, Your Grace," Sebastian whispers into the hollow of her throat, "is quite beautiful on you." Mary blinks up at the sky, cannot see herself but knows that she must look like a wild bird, feathers coming loose, unsure of how far it's able to fly.

Sebastian works magic with his fingertips, caresses slanted lines down the inside of her thighs. "Though I did thoroughly enjoy your opinion on the queen's stiff undergarments…" He trails off, smiles like a little boy. "Am I recounting the tale correctly?"

She tilts up to frown at him, balanced on her elbows. "Still cheeky."

He raises a brow. "You bring out the best."

"Night is falling," Mary whispers, and her hand skitters out to grab hold of his as noir colors the sky. "Bash, I haven't ever…"

He squints to catch the slope of her nose, the fullness of her lips in the dark. "Yes?"

Mary draws in a breath. "I have _never_ – "

"And you still will not have by midnight," Sebastian says. "By morning, or by midday." Mary parts her lips in surprise, but he continues, "Don't ask how much I crave you because your body – " His finger follows a line from the neckline of her gown to the center of her abdomen, leaving trembles in his wake. " – already knows that I do."

Mary says nothing, just folds his hand into her softer one.

"Another time, my queen."

"Your queen…" Mary repeats, as if the words are only his. "So confident in the permanence of your pursuits?"

"You were warned," he chuckles, "of what lurks in these trees."

"Dastardly fellows," Mary sighs with a flourish. Finally, after a silent question, a bated breath, Mary leans back into the grass and accepts this odd addition to her story. "Tell me about the things you dream about."

Sebastian sighs back, preparing himself.

There isn't an answer to the question that doesn't involve her.

:::

**IV.** _Have I found you? Flightless bird, jealous, weeping. Or lost you?_

"I'm not sure that you and I are necessarily to be forever."

He says this as a whispered reassurance hours later, anything to help his grace sleep at night. Their voices are tired from a talk that has become a whisper, fragile kisses placed on her forehead, on his knuckles. His thumb is on her cheek, fingers calloused in a way that Francis's will never have to be. She parts her lips and struggles onto the image of potential for as long as she can, bright eyes and choppy black bangs where a brother-in-law should be.

The sky is black, the night is warm, and some parts of her mind whisper prophecies she doesn't quite understand, a queen whose fingernails are sharp enough to tear this portrait straight in half.

"Not necessarily," Mary breathes, and Sebastian smiles against her skin because he's too busy memorizing the place on her collarbone that smells of roses.

Mary falls asleep donning innocence and a heart-shaped smile.

Just as he had always imagined.

fin.

* * *

**A/N: **So, as you Mash shippers can imagine, I was recently inspired by 1x05. I mean, oh my God. That kiss! So, I decided to write this one-shot up. I'm almost done with chapter two of Royals, so that will be posted soon. Thank you all for reading, and I hope you guys tell me what you think. In the meantime, drop me a note if you have a Twitter or Tumblr. I'm dying to squeal about Reign with more fans. xo, N.


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